Smooth Sailing

HEART IN HER THROAT, a helpless smile on her face, Haley hid behind a large man to catch her breath and then rushed down the steps as best she could to the lower deck. What was this weird game they were playing and why was she playing it? Why didn’t she just leave?

Why? Because Jeb had lit a fire inside her that scared her silly. Being with him was like driving a Ferrari on the Autobahn with a learner’s permit. Roadkill. She’d been there before. Refused to be there again.

She had to get off this boat. Coming to the lower deck had been a mistake. He could corner her down here.

Alarmed by that thought, she moved to climb the steps but she wasn’t accustomed to stilettos. It took more skill than one might suppose. She tripped and nose-dived forward, wine splashing out of her glass. She would have hit the deck if a masculine hand hadn’t reached out to catch her.

“Are you okay?”

She glanced up to see Rick Armand, a respiratory therapist who worked at St. Michael’s General Hospital. He’d asked her out several times, but she’d put him off. She considered him a bit smarmy with his oversize porn-star moustache and the way he clicked his tongue and used his fingers like pistols, pretending he was shooting her. Still, she let him rescue her from Jeb. “I’m fine.”

“You lost your drink,” Rick said. “Let’s get you another.”

She was about to say no, when she glanced back to see Jeb giving her the eye. “Yes, that sounds good. Make it a salty dog, please,” she said extra loudly so Jeb would hear.

Rick took her empty wineglass and gave it to a passing waiter. “Would you like to come with me?”

Yes…yes, she would.

She accepted Rick’s hand and allowed him to lead her to the bar. It took everything she had in her not to look back to see the reaction on Jeb’s face. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she cared what he was thinking about her going off with Rick.

As they stepped up to the bar, Rick placed a hand to the small of her back. Haley moved sideways and Rick dropped his hand. “Salty dog for the lady,” he told the bartender. “And I’ll have a beer.”

“Thank you,” she told him.

“I’ve never seen you looking like this,” Rick said, raking a lascivious gaze over her. “I like it.”

“Moment of temporary insanity,” Haley mumbled and tugged at the hem. A bandanna had more material in it. How did Ahmaya wear these skimpy dresses without feeling overexposed?

“I like it.”

The bartender placed their drinks on the bar. Rick reached over, plucked a pink flamingo stir stick from the holder, dropped it into Haley’s drink and stirred the salty dog before handing it over to her.

“The alcohol tends to settle to the bottom. You have to stir it to make sure it’s completely mixed. Don’t want that last swallow to be pure alcohol. Might go straight to your head.” Rick leered as if that was exactly what he was hoping would happen.

See, this sort of thing was precisely why she didn’t like wearing short skirts and stilettos. It had guys dripping all over her.

“Thanks for watching out for me,” she said sarcastically and stirred her drink vigorously.

“My pleasure.” Rick showed a row of small, crowded teeth. Shark.

What was she doing here with this dweeb? Oh, yeah, avoiding Jeb. She looked around for him, didn’t see him. Thank heavens.

They stepped away from the bar, walking to the back of the boat. Aft, she thought it was called. She touched the straw to her lips, took a swallow of the salty dog. Not bad. Tangy. Salty. Tart. She took another sip. Hmm, on second thought, it had a weird aftertaste she didn’t really like. Maybe she could dump the drink overboard.

“Your eyes sparkle in this lighting,” Rick said. “And with the full moon behind you, the night is picture-perfect.”

“Um.”

Rick started telling her about the souped-up Camaro he’d ordered and was having shipped in from the States, expounding at length on exactly how much he’d paid for it. Like, really, who cared if he’d blown a year’s salary on a car?

He pitched forward. “You’re not drinking your drink.”

“It tastes a little weird.”

“Do you want me to get you something else?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Rick held up his beer mug. “A toast?”

“To what?”

“To seeing people in a different light.”

Why not? “To seeing people in a different light,” she repeated.

They clinked glasses. Feeling obligated, Haley took another swallow. What was that weird aftertaste? It was just supposed to be grapefruit juice, vodka and salt.

“And to a beautiful night.” Rick raised his mug again.

“To a beautiful night.” This time, she barely sipped the drink. Okay, she was definitely going to have to pour it overboard when Rick wasn’t looking.

She meandered toward the edge, but before she could get there, a woozy sensation hit her and she wobbled on her heels. Whoa, those salty dogs sneaked up on you.

“Are you all right?” Rick loomed over her.

Back off, dude. “I’m fine.” She didn’t want him to know she was feeling tipsy. “I just need to, um…go powder my nose.” And get away from you.

It occurred to her that she was spending the night running away from men. She knew that most women would love to have two guys vying over them, but Haley found it annoying more than anything else.

“Could you excuse me?” she asked, pushing her drink at him.

He curled his hand around the glass. “Sure, I’ll be waiting right here.”

Making sure to take careful steps, she maneuvered through the crowd. She longed to go home, but she couldn’t drive like this. Not with her head swirling. She’d go to the restroom, splash some cool water on her face and then go find Ahmaya and see if she was in any shape to drive them home.

Seriously, she was such a lightweight. A few sips of wine and a quarter of a salty dog and her knees were buckling.

Carefully, she made her way from the bridge to the main deck. The party was in full swing. People were dancing all over the place to The Red Hot Chili Peppers singing “Under the Bridge.” How appropriate. She realized that Jeb must have handpicked songs for the evening. Slick. What else would she expect from him?

“Bathroom?” she asked a woman she knew from the hospital.

“The one on this level is occupied, but I heard there’s an en suite in Jeb’s cabin on the lower deck.”

“Thanks,” Haley said. Wow, was she actually slurring her words? This was why she didn’t drink. She could not hold her liquor.

As she clung to the stair railing that led to the lowest deck, her head spun so wildly that she had to stop several times and take a deep breath. Finally, after what felt like a hundred years, she stumbled into the bedroom.